I was watching the news.

I was struck by the seedy side.

The underbelly of society.


The children were disappearing.

It made me wonder.

How would I feel if it happened to me?


Would I kill?


would I forgive?


Could I kill?


could I forgive?


So i wrote a song.

I named it jenny.


Mommas in the kitchen, frying something in the pan.

poppas on the tractor, trying to tame a little land.


I’m shining up my gun, I’m making me a plan.

I’m going to the city, hunt me up a man.


Jenny’s in the backwoods, I’m trying hard to understand.

How a stranger from the city, could come and take her hand.


Smiling all the while, she was having pain.

Laughing as he left her there, crying in the rain.


Life is for learning, sometimes learning don’t come free.

He’ll pay a price dearly, when he learns a bit from me.


One less fool in the city, when I go and make my stand.

For momma and poppa, and who I know I am.


Mommas in the bathroom, drying something in her eye.

Poppa’s in the backwoods, where our ancestors lay.


I’m in the driveway firing up the truck.

Going to the city see a man who’s out of luck.


The doctor just kept smiling,

to hide his pain.


To see a little girl, broken in the rain.

Me I’m just thinking, of my shiny gun.


Dancing in the rain,

when all of this is done.

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